there's catastrophe in everything i'm touching, lepis and any

[vulgaris]

Vulgaris

He hasn’t been to Sylva since Arthas asked for his help in taking their throne but, to be fair, he’s been rather busy with his own affairs. Vulgaris feels more at ease about venturing away from Loess after having spoken to Wolfbane about his concerns. The others would keep an eye out for his family, he tells himself. They won’t let harm come to Adna or Leliana so long as they remain within the borders. He sets off at dawn and travels south to the neighboring kingdom, arriving very shortly after he left home. Vulgaris had forgotten just how close they were.

He crosses into Sylva without hesitation and examines the forest curiously for a while. It’s quieter here, despite the cries of cicadas and the occasional birds chirping overhead. Despite its reputation among the other kingdoms, he can see the allure that Sylva has for others. Had Wolfbane not been so driven to keep Vulgaris within the borders of Loess, he might have chosen this place as his home instead.

But it’s not the time for the what if’s and could-have-been. The thin pupils of his sage green eyes search across the forest for the queen, one of the many important figures of today that he had not met. Adna was adamant that her father should make more friends and shooed him from their usual bonding time today. He wonders if perhaps it is a ploy to get time to herself but he relents all the same. Children have to get into trouble at some point or they’ll never learn some of the important lessons, he supposes. Let her have her mischief just for today.

The serpent comes to a stop near the heart of Sylva and waits patiently for be noticed.

" ancient language, speak through fingers. the awful edges where you end and i begin. "

@[Lepis]

[Lepis]

At first I think the distant figure is Arthas, and I pause between one step and the next. My dark hoof is poised above the forest floor, torn between continuing forward and going straight. The hesitation lasts for only a moment, and then I am moving nearer to the scaled stranger.

It takes a moment (and I have that, weaving through the red woods toward him takes time even for one as familiar with the trees as I) but I finally pinpoint the stallion's scaled face.

"Vulgaris," I say, stepping forward out of the trees with a flick of my white-tipped tail and a welcoming smile. "I don't think we've formally met. I'm Lepis." I do not leave the question of who I am for an overlong pause, but I am curious if he might know me without introductions.

It seems I am becoming rather vain.
If only it were that simple.

Closer to him now, my curious blue-grey gaze flicks across his scaled figure and the curious shadows on his muzzle. The green eyes I meet at last are slit-pupilled and unfamiliar; he is a type of monster I have never seen before. I inhale a long breath of the humid summer air, glancing up for a moment at the golden canopy of beech we stand beneath and trying to remember the location of the nearest stream. When I look back down I am poised once more.

"Is there news from Loess?" I ask, my navy head tilted curiously. The long fall of my mane is obscuring all but the longest of my scars, and I I roll my shoulders to ensure that it does. "Or have you come for something else?"

[vulgaris]

Vulgaris

He is surprised when she says his name before he has the chance to introduce himself. Vulgaris has always viewed himself with a kind of disgust and self-loathing, void of charm or reputation. His only redeeming quality was his strength and little else. But she’s polite and offers up her name, one that he can recall Wolfbane mentioning when they first met. Cleric. That was what he had called her. But now she’s the queen of Sylva and he supposes he should give a polite nod of his head. (He never bows and reserves this gesture for those he actually respects.)

“A pleasure to finally meet you then, Lepis,” he says with a half-smile. Despite the cold appearance and the harsh angles of his handsome face, his voice is warm and sincere in its tones. Before he was scaled and venomous, the sound of his words used to suit him. But he doesn’t dwell on that sort of thing anymore.

He follows her gaze to the branches overhead and he wonders what she sees up there. Vulgaris meets her gaze when she speaks again and he shakes his head a bit. A light laugh even escapes his mouth when she assumes that he comes only for formalities and business.

“No, I’ve only come for a visit. My daughter says I need to get out more.”

He offers a shrug of his broad shoulders as though he doubts the validity of what Adna had said. In truth, he does prefer to spend his time solely on Loess, but only because he likes to be close to his family. There is a part of him that believes no one would protect them as he would. But of course, he is alone in the ferocity with which he guards his family, as he is both a monster and a father.

“How are things going here in Sylva since Arthas took the throne?” he asks as he admires the scar before she hides it once again. To him, the angry lines across his face are trophies of survival and victory. They are celebrated for the cost that was paid to earn them. Lepis seems to think otherwise, though, so he focuses his gaze on her face instead.

" ancient language, speak through fingers. the awful edges where you end and i begin. "

@[Lepis]

[Lepis]

"It’s nice to meet you as well."

Though I known both of my kings’ champions for only a single conversation, I am already more fond of Wolfbane’s snake than Arthas’ hound. His emerald eyes are no easier to read than Sinner’s flaming ones, but I recognize a smile on an equine face more readily than a wolf’s, and warm to the tone of his voice, his easy laughter, and the casual mention of his daughter. I find myself smiling back without having to force it, and I consider – very briefly – relaxing.

No, better not. We are still in Sylva after all.

He asks after Sylva, and I roll my shoulders in a shrug. I had seen the way he eyed them, my myriad of scars, and had not missed his interest. That is not uncommon, but what is rarer in these red woods is the lack of an attempt to reopen them. For all his outer appearance, this man who speaks so affectionately of his child does not inspire fear. Wariness remains, but then – when does it not? It is so familiar that I hardly feel it.

"Quiet." I answer readily. "Though I’ve seen enough storms to know what comes next."

The quiet murmur in Sylva won’t last forever, and I am all to aware of this. These things are cyclical, and I know the shadows will soon be testing their limits. For all my promises to the rest of Beqanna I am doubtful they are entirely within my control. They certainly are not under Arthas’. I cannot speak poorly of him though, and so I offer Vulgaris another soft smile and speak of something else.

"Your king wants us to investigate a cold case," I answer, and despite the crime there is something almost amusing about my first task as queen being to do the impossible. "I don’t suppose you know anything about the murder of Krone, or of two Ischian fillies?"

@[Vulgaris]